come to think of it, i'm aching
by gailpeck
Summary: So there he is, watching America's Next Top Model on a Saturday morning with Jake and his girlfriend and Kitty's hand resting against the side of his leg. Sometimes he wonders how he even gets himself into these situations. Kitty/Ryder, with mentions of Jake/Kitty and Ryder/Marley, AU, m for mentions


**for months now i have lived breathed and eaten through the eyes, ears and mouth of ryder lynn. it's been a tiring process getting into his head. i'm a method writer, you see, and the only way i could write ryder was to **_**become him**_**. the clothes have been ridiculous but the haircut's been convenient. **

**all "jokes" aside (sorry it's three am here and it's tuesday ? ? ? and im tired and also i need to stop listening to snow patrol or i'll cry) here's my first kyder one shot in entirely ryder's mind with a little bit of kitty creepin' through. the ending is dumb but so am i**

**i hate myself for posting this without reading it over but if i don't, i probably won't upload it because it's cliche and dumb and i can't write. anyway, thank you for probably skipping this a/n all together and if you didn't, well, ya dun good son, hope you enjoy this. PLEASE DO REVIEW if you did like it because i am attention horny! ! ! ! ! **

**title is the song so contagious by acceptance and the song in this story is truly, madly, deeply by one direction. i own zero percent of any of this.**

…

"_so baby, say you'll always keep me_

_truly, madly, crazy, deeply in love with you_

_in love with you"_

x

"God," Ryder sighs loudly, pulling the pillow covering his head tighter around his ears before giving up and rolling over on his back. He peeks through one eye at his alarm clock to state, it is in fact, past three a.m. and Jake's _still_ going at it.

He's used to it, really, the girls. Jake takes one home every single damn night but this one is definitely a screamer and seriously, how does Jake keep going on and on and on? Does he take snack breaks? Is he some kind of supernatural creature that'll die if it doesn't try to reproduce?

He sighs again as he sits up and rubs his eyes. He might as well go make himself something to eat and see if there's anything good on tv. Probably not, since it's _three_ a.m. in the damn morning, but hey - he's up, right?

He walks into the kitchen and takes out some bread and jam before opening up a cupboard to get the peanut butter when he finds it's not there.

Great, Jake takes home a screeching, possibly dying whale _and_ put the peanut butter back into the wrong place. It's dark in the kitchen, and of course, the light's broken again and jesus, he just hopes Jake really did put the peanut butter back in the wrong place because he might never be able to eat it again if he's using it for other purposes. Like, right now. Or something.

"If you're looking for the peanut butter, I think I ate all of it," a voice coming from behind, tells him and he jumps before turning around, his eyes big as he stares at the tiny blonde girl on top of his kitchen table wearing only a button down (he's pretty sure belongs to _him_ but hey, who's he to judge she might like, go to the same stores as men do like he doesn't know what's in in woman's fashion), her blonde hair falling down her shoulders as she sips on a cup of coffee.

"Who are you?" He blurts out and he suddenly feels a little shy, standing there in his boxers in front of a hot girl, making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That probably really gets the girls going. He has no game. (But to be fair, she did catch him by surprise. If he had known she'd be there he would've made something more manly - like a sandwich with ham and, like, steroids.)

She makes a face as she completely ignores what he says and tells him, "It was the chunky kind anyway, it wasn't really that good." She puts down her cup and takes a look at her pink nails, before sighing and looking over at the clock on the microwave.

"Still, you ate all of it," he states, just clarifying if he heard her right because he's so tired he could snap any minute and he really doesn't want her to become the victim here, since she's a pretty girl and all, but boy, she's adding some fuel to his already really, really, just like, huge fire.

Her eyes fall on him again and she raises her eyebrows, "Excuse me, who are you again, exactly?"

He frowns, because this girl, he has never seen before in his life, is asking _him_ who he is, while in _his_ apartment and he's super confused. Is she the screamer? She can't be because the alleged screamer is onto round forty-frickin'-five as they can both hear right now. There's three rooms in between them and he can still hear the damn girl. He's starting to question if she's really enjoying it or just in intense pain.

"I asked you first."

"What are you, like five?" She huffs, wiping some coffee of her bottom lip with her thumb as she leans forward a little. His eyes fall on the small space in between her breasts and he can feel himself turning red as he quickly looks back at her face. God, this is really embarrassing.

"Well, then, would you care to explain why the hell you're wearing my shirt?" He snaps back, he's frustrated with Jake for not letting him sleep and with himself because he's an idiot and this damn girl because she is impossible and like, in his house and super hot but also like annoying, and he _just_ wants to go to sleep. Damn.

"My ears were starting to bleed. That girl is like a broken record. She kept screaming and screaming and that octoroon kept going so I needed a break," she stretches, letting out a small yawn and exposing some of her small tan thighs (and if he wasn't so tired he'd totally have the decency not to stare but his brain is working even slower as normal and especially with her acting like it's all nothing) before continuing, "She was laying on top of my dress and I found this shirt in the dryer. Now I'm waiting until she_ finishes_ before I have to go over there and finish her damn life."

"So you were in there before?" He asks (totally casual, no worries) as he turns back around and pulls out the nutella and starts smearing that onto his sandwich. He takes an extra long time because he doesn't want to turn around.

Like she's pretty and all, but the pretty girls always go for Jake or belong to Jake or have been with Jake and seriously, he's not involving himself with a girl that's been near Jake. Jake's his best friend and roommate and bandmate and just, a lot of shit could get too screwed up to function if he ever did.

"Yeah," she says, a bored tone to her voice, "Not that it's any of your business." Snarky. He hates snarky girls, he reminds himself.

He takes a bite out of his sandwich as he turns around, suddenly remembering his manners he asks her, "Do you want one?"

"No thanks, Ken," she flashes him a big fake smile for a second before deflecting her eyes back to her nails.

"My name's Ryder," he just kind of says, just to let her know, because maybe she's interested since they're kind of both half-naked and she's in his kitchen and he just offered her and sandwich while a girl is serenading them with a lot of '_oh's_' and '_ah's_'. It all sounds like the plot of a really bad porn movie. Not that he watches any, but still.

"Great," she retorts, rolling her eyes a little to herself before she looks up at him, "Maybe I should just go home like this. It's not like I could ever wear that dress again unless I decontaminate it or I don't know, burn it."

"Okay, fine, whatever, I'm going back to bed," he lets her know (not like she actually cares because she keeps changing the subjects and ignoring his questions and she's kind of mean) giving her a small smile despite himself (he blames his mother and partly mega-stud comics for having him believing that there's always something good to find in everyone. Even super hot mean girls) before putting his used plate into the sink and going over to his room.

She doesn't say anything, really, just lets him and later when he's laying in bed he hears some movie playing in the living room - very loud, he may add - and it's working because the girl suddenly stops screaming and the movie goes mute and he hears some slamming doors and then finally, frickin' finally, he gets to close his eyes and sleep.

Just sucks that when he does, he dreams of the nameless girl with the blonde hair and full lips and tan legs and seriously? His _dumb_ brain really has it out for him.

x

"Okay, one more time, guys," Puck, Jake's brother, announces as puts down his water bottle and picks up his guitar, "Don't fuck it up the bridge again, Evans," he nods over to the blonde singer slash guitarist who just rolls his eyes in response.

"I wouldn't have screwed up if you weren't singing the wrong lines. You were singing one thing and Jake was backing up another thing and hey, how the hell am I supposed to know in which part of the song we even are?" Sam defends himself as he signals over to Ryder to start the beat.

"1, 2, 3," He starts and they're just about three lines into the song when Jake stops playing and the rest of them are interrupted by a voice.

"I've heard better music at funerals," the snarky blonde from a few days ago announces as she stalks into their private rehearsal. What now? She wants to bring Jake her dry cleaning bill? She should be buying _him _a new jar of peanut butter.

"Damn, raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by Regina George," Sam says in a strict, teacher-like (not really successful) female voice and Ryder would face palm at Sam's constant need to impersonate movie characters if he wasn't so used to it.

Kitty gives him a weird look before leaning over towards Jake and kissing him, like with tongue and hands on cheeks and like, _sounds_, and when she pulls away her eyes rest on his for a second or so before she turns to the others. "So, you're not going to introduce me to the rest of these losers, Puckerman?"

Jake just shakes his head as he says, "Guys, this is my girlfriend. Kitty, this is Sam," he motions at the blonde, before slapping his brother on the back and pointing at Ryder with his guitar. "Puck and Ryder."

Kitty. That's just so her. It fits her perfectly. He briefly wonders if she thinks his name fits him but then he think she probably doesn't give a shit and he's also not entirely sure she remembers him. For all he knew she was madly drunk the other night. (Why else would she have a threesome with Jake and that girl, whoever she was, that forever would be known as _Shrik_ - but then again, who was he even kidding? Jake got every girl he wanted.)

"Girlfriend?" Puck snickers, taking his guitar off, "That's a first."

"Yeah, well,_ girl_, he just couldn't let me go," Kitty sneers as she puts one hand on Jake's chest and sends him a smirk. She's wearing tiny black high waisted shorts with a pink long sleeved blouse tucked into it and she looks super pretty and her hazel green eyes are drawing him in from across the room and screw his dumb head. He barely even knows her.

Ryder can't keep his eyes of off her but he can't form words in his mouth either to say something. He wants to seem cool and casual and smooth about this. He wants to say something like, '_nice to meet you, Kitty, was it?_' like he barely remembers her, like she hasn't been on his mind since he saw the dam inside of her thigh and totally lost it. He wants to make her feel like she makes him feel. Inferior and a little nervous and like super, _super _curious.

But he's afraid he's going to say the wrong thing or stutter or just blatantly blurt out something like '_wow, you're pretty_' (1. Making Jake hate him, 2. Making Kitty hate him, 3. Getting him kicked out of the band and probably his home) so yes, totally not worth opening his mouth for. (Yet, it kind of is.)

"He wanted to keep me around," she adds, her eyes landing on his once again and if he had blinked, he surely would've missed it.

He has this feeling in his chest, like they have some big secret no one else knows about but it's silly because she probably told Jake about the creepy loser she talked to in the kitchen for five seconds. But still, he feels like maybe, she hadn't told him and wouldn't because it was their little secret, you know. Meeting in the kitchen barely dressed and sharing just a few words before they pretended none of it had happened. Not like actually had really happened but it was hard to describe, but it kind of felt like something had happened. Like they had made some of connection.

But that was overly ridiculous and besides she's dating Jake now, so what does it really matter? He reminds himself he's most likely just all over thinking this. She's Jake's first actual girlfriend since high school - so she's probably pretty important to him.

"So, you pack of unbearable emo-indie-punks, who's ready to get some tacos?"

x

"You look shitty as hell," she tells him as she sits down next to him on the couch and pulls up her legs before digging into her cereal.

"Didn't get much sleep," he replies without turning to look at her and ignoring her obviously offending comment.

"I wasn't asking for a sob story," she mentions in between two spoonfuls of cereal, before yanking the remote from his hand and changing the channel.

He turns to look at her with a frown (because he said _one_ sentence and she really pisses him off when she says confusing shit like that - it just gets under his skin) but when she doesn't even make the effort to make some kind of eye contact, he says, "I was watching that."

"So?" She turns to look at him with her eyebrows raised after putting down her empty bowl on the coffee table.

"It's my tv," he emphasizes and he wonders where she gets the nerve to behave like this is someone elses house. It's so annoying and not to mention - _rude_ and dammit he really wanted to see the ending of that Ben & Jerry episode.

"And?" She seems aggravated and well, good. Be aggravated but she's not going to get under his damn skin. She can watch whatever she wants. See if he cares.

"Nevermind," he says awfully calm, faking a smile before turning back to the tv. There's no reason to start a fight with someone who's obviously going to be hanging around a lot.

"That's what I thought, bad-Bieber-hair-cut," she mumbles, her attention already trailing of towards a re-run of _America's next top model_. "God, her legs are so long!"

"Her dress is kind of weird," he tells her as he tilts his head slightly. The girls is wearing some kind of long white drape with holes in it.

"You shut your mouth!" She says offended, elbowing him as she leans closer to the screen. He doesn't really know why he lets her walk over him, but he guesses he doesn't really mind. He's used to it from really every other person in his life since they usually just assume he doesn't mind because he's nice (_You're too nice_ was literally the reason his last ex-girlfriend gave him when she told him they were through) but when Kitty does it he honestly doesn't mind that much. She seems to treat everyone like that.

After a minute or so she speaks again, complaining, "Jake sleeps so frickin' long I think he needs to see a therapist."

She turns to look at him, raising her eyebrows as if to say, '_well?_' as she nudges his leg with her hand.

"Sorry, you wanted me to speak?" He says dryly and a small smile forms on her lips. "You have my permission, Malibu Ken."

"He sleeps in everyday that he can, until at least 12. Our first year in college he actually only took classes based on what time they were given but this year he's limited it to weekends since his mom told him she would have him castrated if he didn't start making an effort," Ryder says and he swears to God she inches just a little closer as she glances over at his lips.

She quickly looks away as Jake approaches her from behind and places a kiss on the side of her head, "Hey babe." He nods towards Ryder, "Hey man."

"Speak of the devil," he mumbles as Kitty and Jake engulf themselves in an almost full-frontal make-out session (hey, don't mind him he's just sitting here like an inanimate prop) and he's about to just walk off (he's a little pissed but he doesn't really know why, he has no right to be - it's not like they were having an actual conversation or him and Kitty were friends or something) when Kitty pulls away and almost sends him some kind of apologetic look (but he's convinced he's just imagining all of these things) as she scoots over to make room for Jake.

So there he is, watching America's next top model on a Saturday morning with Jake and his _girlfriend_ and Kitty's hand resting against the side of his leg. Sometimes he wonders how he even gets himself into these situations.

x

He notices a lot of things when Kitty's there. Like the small birthmark on the side of her neck that is only exposed when her hair is up (he thinks she looks extra pretty like that but he won't ever say that) and the way she hums songs to herself when she's too busy to notice anything else around her (pop songs, always pop songs that he hates and then remain stuck in his head for the rest of they - like her) and the way she sometimes stares at him when they're watching a movie in the dark and she thinks he doesn't know (but he can feel her eyes on his and builds up the courage to just look right back at her until the movie is over and she has long looked away).

He doesn't know why, but she looks at him and sometimes touches him (like not full on groping him or something but like brushing her arm against his when honestly there was a feet in between them or sitting extra close to him or resting her hand on his shoulder when she leans over to grab something) and he knows it's not _all_ in his head. It can't be.

And then, oh yeah, there's the time she kisses him. Like he went into the kitchen to get a glass of water since he couldn't sleep and then there she is, pushing him against the counter and pressing her lips against his. One of her hands is on his chest and the other on the side of his head and he kind of just feels like he's floating. It's so unexpected and all kinds of wrong, really but also nice. So nice.

She pulls away after a minute and smirks as he watches her long hair cascade down her shoulders, her hand sneaking up his shirt and pressing against his abs as she presses her lips to his one more time. Standing on the tip of her toes, she whispers into his ear, "You're welcome."

She lets out a small laugh at the confused look on his face before taking a step back and giving him one more look before she's gone. Just like that. Gone as fast as she came. He didn't know what the hell just happened or why it happened - he just felt this intoxicated feeling settle in his gut, mixed with a lot of guilt - because she was Jake's _girlfriend_.

And he was the worst friend ever.

x

He doesn't tell Jake, because for a while nothing else happens. He figures she might have just been drunk or sleepwalking or whatever and it wasn't worth causing the trouble over. She didn't even seem to remember it so he tried not to, either.

He gets a girlfriend, her name is Marley and her eyes are really blue and he really likes her. Kitty, however, doesn't.

("Marls, sweetie, you sure you want to be seen in public wearing_ that_?" "Aww, honey, you look like you got mauled by a horde of bears." "Nice shoes. Did you buy them at Sears?" Apparently that was something very mean to say because Marley hadn't worn the shoes since.)

The day he introduces Marley to her and Jake, she comes into his room in the middle of the night.

He wakes up from the kisses she's placing on his cheek, neck, chin, cheek and finally lips and he doesn't have the heart to push her away. He likes her so much but she is Jake's girlfriend and he also likes Marley and she is his girlfriend so this shouldn't be hard. This should be easy. He should just stop this now. Right now.

But then she kisses him and he kind of just forgets about it all, his hands in her hair and her sweet flowery, peachy scent intoxicating his brain and he rolls them over and they just kiss for a few minutes, her teeth pulling on his bottom lip and her tongue making his heart beat about twenty times faster and he feels like he should google Kitty Wilde because he might be allergic.

Then her kisses turn softer and sweeter and it feels like christmas morning and snow free days.

"Does she kiss you like this?" Her breath is warm when it hits his cheek after she pulls away and rests her forehead on his temple, her eyes closed as he looks down at the side of her face, his arms supporting his weight.

"What?" He says dumbly like he doesn't know what she's talking about but he_ does_. And he wish she hadn't asked. Because now he remembers that what they're doing is wrong and he feels hurt because he's just her dirty little secret she pushes around and hides from everyone else in the dark until she is ready to let him come out and play with.

"Jake doesn't," she whispers, barely audible, putting her head down on his pillow as she stares up at him. "It feels… different." In that moment she looks so peculiar - insecure and vulnerable and exposed. She puts one hand on his cheek, caressing it for a moment before moving both of her hands onto his upper chest and looking around his room.

Her eyes land on a poster and just like that she's back. She smirks as she charges, "You like the Beatles? Haven't they been extinct since 1985?"

"Kitty," he tries against his better judgement because they don't really talk, do they? She just insults him every now and then and he lets her and answers her questions when she wants him to.

She shakes her head, like something suddenly snaps and pushes him off of her before hurrying off his bed and turning to tell him, "Don't tell anyone. I will go to my grave swearing it's not true." She quickly runs a hand through her hair before she rushes off. Back to Jake.

He sighs, falling back onto his bed and wondering how the hell he ever got so wrapped up in this Kitty Wilde bad daytime soap opera drama. Life used to be so _easy_.

x

"No, I liked," Marley's voice trails off as she takes another look at the back of the album - she's leaning against him on the couch, his arm wrapped around her shoulder - before saying, "Uhm, number five the most."

"No way, when I first listened to it I hate-"

"You losers talking about the Ol' Beatles again?" Ryder's head snaps up at the sound of Kitty's voice and his eyes widen as he finds her standing there, with just her panties on.

"The Killers actually but," Marley stops as she looks up from the album and gasps. She looks over at Ryder and then back at Kitty and she's turning so red because she's never felt this uncomfortable in her life.

Ryder is trying so hard to look the other way but then she yawns and stretches and it's just like, that night in his bed (he remembers the kisses slow, sweet, different) were bad enough but now she's crossing lines and boundaries and he can't frickin' look away because it's Kitty!

And Marley's there and she really likes him and he really likes her and it's not difficult or complicated with her. So he looks away and gives her a comforting smile before leaning over and kissing her. "I like number five, too."

His eyes briefly glance over at Kitty who is shrugging into a pair of yoga pants, humming to herself, before pulling on a t-shirt. It's like she doesn't even care about this obvious game she's playing.

"Love it, actually."

x

He pulls his shirt out of the dryer and takes in the fresh scent for a moment, enjoying the warmth it radiates to his skin before he slips it over his head.

She clears her throat from behind him as he straightens out the soft fabric covering his upper body as he turns to look at her. She brushes past him and he catches a hint of peaches and summer and when her long blonde locks fall down her shoulders like a waterfall. She doesn't say anything so neither does he.

She pulls out a sweater and pulls it over her head, shivering a little before stuffing her hands in her pockets and turning back around to walk away. It's his sweater and he knows she knows that and she's just trying to get under his skin.

"What? I'm cold," she growls, and rolls her eyes aggravatedly as she pulls up her hair into a ponytail and ties it with an elastic. (It exposes her neck and he wants his stupid brain to stop wanting him to kiss the spot in between her shoulder and neck.)

"Yeah, well, it's mine," he says sternly, clenching his fists at his sides (she doesn't realize how much he could miss something he never had).

"You don't mind, do you?" She retorts without skipping a beat, her voice so sweet it's dripping with sugar, biting down on her bottom lip before she winks, patting him on the chest and walking past him.

"So, does Jake know you're wearing my sweaters?" He snaps, when she's about half way through the door, because he wants to hurt for a just a second, just to make her feel something, just so he knows for sure that the girl that keeps appearing in his dreams is real and she feels and she cares and she doesn't just do things to make life more difficult for others.

She hasn't kissed him since that night, just been challenging him (challenging him to _cheat_ and he didn't even know how he'd become this person) by putting her hand on his leg under the dinner table or leaning her head on his shoulder when all four of them were sitting on their tiny couch and by purposely teaming up with him during hints or guitar hero. She's subtle, but cruel and cold.

He can't believe she did all those thing right before Marley and Jake's eyes. They didn't deserve this, deserved someone better than him but he couldn't stop thinking about her.

"I won't tell if you won't," she says dryly, toneless and does he need to remind her? Remind her they're both taken but she's playing with his heart, giving it hope and tearing it away seconds after?

"This," he motions in between them, "Whatever it is," he shakes his head to himself, "It has to stop. You have Jake and I have," he licks his lips, pausing for a second, "I have Marley."

"There's nothing going on, Ryder," she says, urging, "I don't know what you're talking about," and he looks over at her, hoping to see some kind of emotion on her face to show him she does care even a little bit but all he faces is cold eyes and a feeling in his gut that makes him feel sick.

"Absolutely _nothing_," she clarifies again, before leaving him standing by himself. (He knows they'll never belong, truly, together, yet, he can't stop his heart from hoping that they will.)

A few minutes later he hears them from his room, laughing and kissing and he thinks that that's just how it's supposed to be. He looks down at his hands and they're trembling the tiniest bit. It doesn't make it any easier, but it makes it less hard to let go.

x

"What are you sulking about?" Kitty's voice is silky smooth as she rests a hand on his shoulder and leans over. He's looking almost as broody as Jake, that familiar glimmer of excitement not in his eyes (it annoyed her how he would find a way to be happy about anything).

He pushes her hand off and pretends he doesn't feel a little pang in his chest when she actually looks hurt. "Like you care."

"Aww. You and the pretty little blue eyed gf had a fight about what idol contestant was going to win this cycle?" She fakes a pout and she pours herself a glass of coke as she sits down on the other side of the table and sips on it.

"I'm not in the mood, Kitty," he barks back as he pushes his microwave dinner away from him and rests his hand on his fist.

"You want me to get Jake?" She sounds sincere all of a sudden and his eyes snap up to meet hers. She doesn't look at him, draws imaginary circles on the kitchen table with her pointer finger and brushes her hair out of her face with her other hand.

"It's not something he would understand," he says a little too bitterly and he doesn't need the questions or the pity and he should've just kept his mouth shut.

"You can tell me," she says after a moment, quietly, "If you want."

"It's not, it's not something you would understand either," he licks his dry lips before taking a sip of his water.

"I'm full of surprises," she challenges him, leaning back on her chair and something in the way she's looking at him just makes him want to spill everything. This weird feeling of trust washes over him and he needs it to go away. He can't let her be even more superior, he can't let her know his weaknesses. "Try me."

"Well, I," he starts but then shakes his head. His chest is already starting to tighten and he feels so uncomfortable already and he kind of just wants to cry. "I can't."

Then she takes his hand and squeezes it softly, urging him to tell her anyway.

He blurts it out all in one breath because if he doesn't, he won't ever finish, "Marley, she, she wants to have sex but I have been putting it off because, because - and now she thinks I don't want to because of her but that's not it and the last thing I wanted was to hurt her."

"But you're a _guy_," she says and he immediately regrets it. It's not like she would understand. No one ever does. "You should want to jump her fragile bones after five minutes of dating. Unless you're gay."

He keeps quiet and she takes this as some sort of sign that she should go on, "What? Is this your first time or something?" She snorts a little, a smile forming on her lips. It quickly turns into an even wider one when he doesn't answer, "It _is_!"

"Oh, so, you're the twenty year old virgin! I like it," she smirks, squeezing his hand and he pulls it away, shaking his head.

"I want to," he's already in deep shit so why not continue to keep digging the hole deeper, right, "It's not like I haven't thought about it, it's not like I, like I don't like seeing girls, you know, like that, because I do," his cheeks turn a shade of pink as he continues, a sudden sadness washing over his eyes.

"I want to," he repeats, his voice barely shaking, "but I just _can't_." He tears up just a little but he quickly sniffs and wipes it away and he can't even look at her right now. He can't believe he just revealed something so personal that she'll surely use against him and why? Because she held his damn hand?

"_Oh_," she says and he looks up because he should memorize this look, and remember it next time she tries to kiss him so he can finally have the encouragement to push her away, but it's not the look he thought she would have. Her eyes visibly soften and she bites on the inside of her cheek. And it's like she just knows what he's talking about even though he only said two words before breaking down like some sort of idiot.

"Uhm, when I was in the sixth grade," she says with a soft voice, "I was at a sleepover and my friend's brother, he, uhm, he did some stuff and after no one really believed me." He feels this sudden anger come over him - he never understood why, why people would do stuff like this and now he finds out they did it to her too? He wants to kill the son of a bitch who touched her - and he clenches his jaw.

"So then when I was in high school and you know how it goes, everyone was talking about it. _Sex_. And if they weren't talking, they were, you know, doing it. And I was the head cheerleader and he was the football captain so it was kind of perfect, right?" She tells him, not making an eye contact as she stares at her hands.

"Right," he says because he doesn't really know what else to say and his head is pounding and his heart is hurting and he feels like punching someone.

"So I thought if I just do this, it'll be over and I'll feel more normal and from then on it'll just be, _sex_," she hesitates for a second, putting a stray of hair behind her ear. "So I did. I thought it would fix everything."

"Did it.. Did it.." _fix you_, he wants to ask but he can't finish his sentence, not really and she finally looks up at him. "It was horrible and I probably cried for about five hours after that and I think he broke up with me via text after that _because_ I cried for five hours and I put _Nair_ in his shampoo," she lets out a small laugh and so does he, "but it wasn't like it didn't hurt any less after that. I just learned to cope with it, I guess and then after a while and many tries, it just became normal."

He looks at her and he's never see her cry but he swears she just she hesitantly adds, "Now I don't think about him anymore, just sometimes at night when I can't sleep I keep hearing him unzipping my sleeping bag over and over and over"

He remembers how his entire life he felt so alone when it came to stuff like this, he had always felt different than everyone else, not normal. (Ryder, the kid who can't read and can't write and he who didn't like a girl touching him when he was just eleven years old. Every little boys dream!) and for a second, with her staring back at him and sharing her deepest, darkest secret he does - feel normal, connected, united, _stronger_.

Ryder doesn't say anything, though (doesn't thank her for making him feel whole, doesn't tell her she's perfect and that if he could he would take her secret and make it his, doesn't lean over and kisses her like he so desperately wants) just looks at her hands and then whispers, "I'm sorry."

She smiles a little sadly at him and informs him, "If Marley really likes you, you can trust her with your secret. And if you explain it, she'll understand and she'll take it slow." She bites down on her lip before pushing her glass away from her and standing up.

"T-thanks," he finally manages to form the words with his lips, stammering as he looks up at her. He doesn't know why she just told him this when she obviously doesn't like to come across as weak, but then he decides that she could never be - she was the bravest person he knew. He's pretty sure that if the roles were reversed he wouldn't have told her.

She nods, pausing for a moment before reaching over and squeezing his hand one more time. "I just want you to be happy, Ryder."

He's about to ask her why, because they're not friends, they're not family or God forbid, lovers. Why would she want him to be happy when they're basically strangers (who made out once or twice but some would call it hormones or a small moment of weakness or maybe just a game)? Why would she tell him her secrets when she ignores him or at the very least tries to aggravate him in public? Why would she sneak into his room in the middle of the night to tell him she hates the Beatles but likes slow kisses?

His head tells him that,_ that's just Kitty_, always surprising people and toying with them - but his heart whispers _because she loves me_ and his lips almost whisper it back whenever he sees her.

x

"I can't reach it," Marley laughs, faking a pout as she defeatedly holds up a big gold star, standing on her tiptoes as she reaches for the top of his mix-matched decorated tree. Jake is Jewish so he's out with Kitty doing God knows what (they've been going out and staying over at her place for weeks now - he's barely even seen Jake) and his parents went on some kind of cruise and Marley didn't have enough money to go back home so they're spending christmas together.

He lets out a chuckle as he takes the star from her and puts it on top without any effort. The tree wasn't that big and most of the decorations were dorky but he loved christmas. He loved the idea of snow and santa claus and hot chocolate and he likes that he gets to spend it with Marley.

He likes it a lot. Marley's soft and sweet and pretty - she holds his hand in public and kisses him awake even when he has morning breath and she's not afraid to be herself around him or other people for that matter.

He _really_ likes her, he thinks as she leans up to kiss him before gushing over a robot dog that sings santa claus is coming to town and they watch all his favorite movies cuddled up on the couch and she laughs at his dumb jokes ('_aww, that sad elf must have a low elf esteem_') and he's happy.

Marley is the perfect girl, the girl he's always wanted and she actually likes him. _Him_.

He should be happy about that. (_Instead he isn't_)

x

Jake throws a big New Year's Eve party at their apartment and he's never seen so many drunk people, empty red solo cups and scantily clad girls in one room. It was a total frat party.

Not that he minded, he liked parties and it was better than spending the night with just the four of them. Talk about awkward.

(He and Kitty hadn't really talked. He got it. He ended their, whatever, _nothing_, and then she helped him through something huge and he kind of ignored her for days until she finally gave up and just didn't even bother to show up anymore.)

He thinks she looks really beautiful though. Her green eyes are sparkling (and a little glazed from the alcohol) in the dim lights and her blue dress is hugging her small figure and her smile is pretty much the best part of his night and he remembers how she had tasted like cherries and lazy sunday mornings and happiness. He hated it, all of it, all the memories clouding his brain when it had been weeks, almost months now, and he's here with Marley and she should be enough.

Because Marley's like sunshine, happy and perky and a perfect fit. If he were to be with Kitty they would have to work on the hidden, painful, messy, rough edges to make them smooth so they might, eventually, be able to fit together, _maybe_. He keeps asking himself _why go for a maybe when you have a completely_, over and over and over because he can't seem to ever get the right answer. The answer he wants. Marley.

Kitty is more the answer he craves, _needs_. The wrong answer.

And Marley isn't enough, and he fucking hates his dumb brain for not reminding him to stay the hell away because now he's in the kitchen and he's had too much champagne and Jake's passed out on the couch and Marley's probably off somewhere waiting for him and it's like ten minutes past 12 and it's not a good way to start the new year and he ended it, he did the right thing and all he has to do now is stay away and _none_ of it keeps him from putting his hand on the small of her back as he leans close to her ear and whispers, "I miss you."

She snorts, blurts out something like, "You're drunk," before pushing his arm off and picking up the bowl of chips she'd been filling and presses it to her chest. "Go sleep it off, Lynn."

"You look really pretty tonight," he ignores her and instead looks at her earnestly as he wipes some of her hair from her face and leans closer.

Her face softens a little as she puts on hand on top of his for a moment before taking his hand and removing it from her cheek. She leans up and places a kiss on lips (it's over so quickly he almost misses it but it's like she won't allow herself to do it even a second longer or she'll lose herself) and tells him a little sadly, "She's a great girl, Ryder, don't screw it up."

And then she's gone, back to the party, he thinks. He closes his eyes for a second and his head is pounding but he suddenly feels a lot more sober. His heart is about to beat out of his chest as he walks back to the party and finds Marley, pulling her into his room as he tells her, "I'm ready."

He feels like he is, so they do _it_ and it's really awkward and he feels really uncomfortable but afterwards he feels a tiny bit better because it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be (the alcohol helped, he guesses) and as Marley mumbles against his chest that she loves him, he feels sick to his stomach because he hadn't thought of her when he placed kisses down her neck and put his hand in between her legs and whispered '_i love you_'. It was the bright blonde beauty who he found in his kitchen one night and since, has never left his mind.

It's official. He's the worst person in the entire world.

x

It's a dark, stormy January night when he's laying on the couch watching reruns of _pretty little liars_, which is surprisingly a really good show (and he can't really bring himself to change the channel either way).

He broke up with Marley a few days ago and there was a lot of crying and confusion and painful looks at it's just - like the last thing he ever wanted to was get her hurt. She deserved someone better and he couldn't keep lying to her about having his heart when obviously she didn't.

He knows it's a lame excuse because he had known what he was getting into from the start but he figures that maybe he's just better off alone. If he can't have Kitty, then he needs to get over her, and Marley, she doesn't deserve to be a placeholder until he can finally move on from the chokingly tight grip Kitty has on him. And frankly, he deserves neither of them or any girl for that matter after what he did.

He couldn't pinpoint he had lost himself in all of this, this love thing, but he knew it had happened the moment he saw the look on Marley's face when he told her he couldn't do it anymore.

There's a knock on the door and he can't bring himself to get up so he ignores it, turning down the volume and hoping the person would just go away. Jake was out with Puck and Sam and surely he wouldn't be home early, he never is, and anybody else could really just come back another time. When he wasn't brooding and wallowing in self pity and figuring out who this infamous -A person was, for example.

The person is pretty persistent, though, and keeps knocking on the door, eventually even slamming against it. He grunts, getting up and stalking over to the door.

It's Kitty. Of course it is. Did she hear about his break-up and did she want to come rub in how he screwed up everything? Her hair is a little damp from the rain outside, he notices, as she pushes past him and into the living room. She takes off her wet jacket, throwing it over the couch, before slipping out of her heels.

"Jake's not here," he clarifies, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as walks back over to the tv. She stops him halfway, putting her hand on his lower arm. Her eyes are big and bright, her lips slightly parted as she takes in a sharp breath and determinedly tells him, "I didn't come here for Jake."

"Oh," he says a little dumbly, so what did she come for? Did she leave some dry clothes here? Did she need to use the bathroom? He looks down at her hand, still on his arm, and then it kind of clicks in his head. "_Oh_."

"God, you're slow," she groans, rolling her eyes and he blinks a few times, taking a good look at the girl in front of him (he's fifty percent sure she's not real or maybe high on crack cocaine).

"Kitty," he pleads, because they can't do this. He just broke up with Marley and she's still dating Jake and honestly, they'd be fools to think the two of them would ever work out. It's still wrong and it'll probably never be right.

"Shh," she puts a hand over his heart, her voice steady, "I don't like to talk during." She announces it like it means nothing but it means everything - because if he does this, if he actually goes through with it, he'll be even more of a worse person than before, and he's not sure he'll be able to look in the mirror or if he'll be able to let her go again. Either way, it's not a good idea.

She pulls his shirt over his head, though, and he kind of just loses himself in the moment, connecting his lips with her as he leans down. Her hands are on his chest, in his hair, on his shoulders and it feels _the best_.

She tastes like cinnamon and chocolate this time, but he doesn't mind, she still kisses the same. He pulls her wet tanktop up her chest, which is more difficult than it seems, and she laughs at his clumsiness as she helps him pull it over her head before connecting their lips again.

They stumble towards his room and she pulls down her yoga pants as he shrugs out of his jeans before he takes in her pink polka dotted boy shorts and blue bra, places one kiss on her lips, "You're perfect."

"Now, didn't your mother teach you not to lie," she smirks, a playful glint in her eyes as she pushes him backwards, making him smile and fall onto his bed as she crawls on top of him. She puts one knee on either side of him as she leans down to kiss his chest, holding her hair to her left side with one hand.

She works her way up to the side of his mouth and he reaches behind her to unclip her bra. (He hasn't really had that much practice but he thanks his lucky stars he doesn't embarrass himself by taking five minutes to figure out how to work the damn thing.) She shivers a little as he runs his hand over her spine but then she smiles at the look on his face - he's looking like an adorable, excited puppy dog, looking at her like she hung the moon, like he thought the world of her - and she savours it for a moment before connecting their lips.

When they finish, there's no heartfelt confession or declaration of love, instead she slips into his shirt and her panties and he slips on his boxers and they watch youtube videos of cats and laughing babies on his phone as they share a plate of fries.

And he feels home, whatever that may mean because he hasn't felt at home since he was eleven years old and innocent, but now he does, and he can't lose it. He can't lose her. He just can't.

x

He ends up with a black eye and a bruised rib on Kitty's couch. He told Jake, in a spur of the moment _'i'm trying to right my wrongs_', and Sam told him he needed to give him some time ('_you did steal his girl, bro_') so he better crash somewhere else for a few days.

"You're such an idiot," She states, a little pissed off, pressing a bag of frozen peas against his cheek. He winces and she shakes her head to herself, running a finger over the cut on his lip. "You're literally the dumbest person I've ever met and I met Kim Kardashian one time when my parents took me to LA."

"I can't keep lying to everyone," he says, taking the bag from her and holding it himself, "I can't keep lying to myself because I thought as long as I didn't tell Jake, it wouldn't be real, I wouldn't really be this bad of a person."

"You're not a bad person," her voice softens as she starts dabbing a towel to his lip, cleaning over the little blood that was left.

"I cheated on my girlfriend with you, my best friend's, who's like my brother, girlfriend and then I had sex with her after months only to dump her a few days afterwards because," he uses one hand to air quote the biggest break-up cliché, " '_i couldn't do it anymore_'."

"Well, when you put it like that," she teases, and he laughs as she nudges his arm with her elbow. He groans, taking a hold of his ribs and she rolls her eyes, "Pussy."

"I know it all sucks right now," she notes, eyes cast on his chest as fixes his shirt, "But it'll get better."

He didn't know when or how exactly he had fallen in love with her. He couldn't pinpoint if it was that one night they were watching the Notebook and Jake had fallen asleep and she hadn't said anything to him the whole night but then she grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers and watched Noah declare his everlasting love for Allie or maybe it was every time she looked at him and he felt this warm feeling in chest or maybe it had been that first night, when she was so rebellious and careless and beautiful, maybe it had been then he'd fallen in love with her. Either way. He was.

He looks at her, sighing as he runs his free hand over her cheek, "Things are already looking up."

"Cheese and rice, Ryder, that was so cheesy I think I just threw up a little in my mouth."

She smiles though and he knows things _will_ get better because looking at her, he believes, and when he leans over to kiss her (even though his head is pounding and his ribs ache with every move he makes), he can feel it, too.

x

"_wish i could freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this_

_i'll put this day back on replay and keep reliving it."_

….

_**fin.**_


End file.
